Crystal arrived for work the next morning with nervous excitement bubbling beneath the surface. She expected that Troy would stop in at some point. Although his main office was at Stuart Mitchell headquarters up in Harlem, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he found some excuse to make the trip downtown to Hipster. She wasn’t a bit surprised when she arrived that morning to find Troy smiling back at her from behind the desk in his father’s office.
She chuckled.
“Good morning, Troy.”
He bounced a little in his father’s oversized leather chair. Despite his size, to Crystal he looked like a little kid role-playing at Daddy’s job.
“How did my dad sit here?” Troy asked rhetorically. “This thing is uncomfortable. I’m gonna have to order a new one.”
Crystal raised an eyebrow. “You’re planning on spending a lot of time here?”
He smiled at that. “Yes, I think so. You know, just until I get familiar with the way things are done around here.”
Crystal nodded. She suspected that Troy wasn’t only interested in familiarizing himself with the office mechanics. She was well aware of the way his gaze lingered a little too long on her curves.
“Well, I’ll see you around then.” She held up her coffee cup in a mock toast, spun on her heels, and stepped down the hall toward Oscar’s office. She found him standing near the window, a glorious view of Midtown just beyond him, while he stared intently at some pictures spread on the ledge.
Oscar glanced up at her for just a moment before turning his attention back to the photos.
“Come look at this,” he beckoned. He stood with his arms folded, one hand resting on his chin.
She stepped closer to see that he was studying four pictures of an aging former model.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He looked at her, eyes wide. “What’s right?” he shot back. “She’s not working.”
Crystal shook her head. The pictures looked fine to her. But she had worked with Oscar long enough to trust his instincts. She looked at him.
“Let’s use Roxy Nolan instead. Make it part of our Mother’s Day issue. Roxy Nolan and her daughter, Vanessa.” She waited for Oscar’s reaction.
He gave it some thought. Then he looked at her sidelong. “You sly fox.”
She smirked. Oscar saw right through her.
“This will go over well with the boss.”
She shook her head. “I’m the boss,” she reminded him. “But you’re right. Fox and Troy will love the idea. If we’re lucky, we’ll get Vanessa to agree to a bridal-themed shoot. Kill two birds with one stone.”
Oscar looked at Crystal closely, his eyes narrowed. “Funny,” he sneered. “I think Troy has his eyes on you.”
She scoffed, although she knew it was true.
“He was looking for you this morning. And when he saw that you weren’t here, he started asking about you.”
Crystal’s heart sank for a moment. “Asking what?”
“About your schedule and your work habits.” He glanced at her suggestively then.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Oscar shrugged. “I wonder if he’s this interested in all of the other magazines his family owns. It might not be just the work that has him excited.”
“He’s engaged to Vanessa Nolan,” she reminded him. “What else did he ask?”
“Nothing really, darling. It wasn’t what he asked, to tell you the truth. It was the way he went about it. He seemed like a boy with a crush in school. It’s obvious that he likes you.” Oscar winked at her coyly. “I think he’s showing up here so early in the morning for more than just the free coffee.”
Crystal laughed. “Save the melodrama for this morning’s cover meeting. I’m on my way in now, so you should join me.” She gestured toward the photos he had been staring at. “I’ll set up the Roxy Nolan thing. We’ll figure out a way to use these somehow. Don’t worry.”
“Worry makes wrinkles,” Oscar said, waving his hand as if something smelled bad. “I don’t do that.”
He followed her to the conference room down the hall, where they found the executive team already assembled. Troy had taken the seat at the head of the table. The same one his father always occupied during his rare visits to Hipster’s headquarters. She felt his gaze all over her as she moved to a seat near Marlo and her marketing team.
“Crys,” Troy called out.
The buzz of conversation in the room died down at the sound of his voice. Crystal glanced at him, a bit embarrassed by all the attention. At the moment, it felt like every pair of eyes in the room were on them.
“Sit closer. I might have some questions during the meeting.”
Crystal changed seats, aware that with every step he watched her like a hawk. She sat beside him and called the meeting to order.
She gave a brief overview of the direction she wanted the issue to go in. While she spoke, she was aware that Troy was watching her closely. She pretended not to notice and spoke confidently. Crystal took her job seriously. Her career had been the one constant in a life that had seen its share of peaks and valleys. Despite whatever chemistry there might be between the two of them, she was determined to focus on the task at hand. She laid out her plans for the March issue in exquisite detail.
After her presentation, she handed the floor over to Oscar, sat back, and listened.
Troy paid attention to Oscar because it was impossible not to. Oscar had a flair for the dramatic that made it impossible to look away. It was the juxtaposition of his large, imposing frame against his fluttery words and the flick of his wrist. The entire room was riveted.
Troy still managed to steal a glance at Crystal every now and then. She sat with her spine straight, chin up, and with her breasts struggling against her skintight dress. She was a lovely sight. He forced himself to focus on Marlo Stanton, who had now taken the floor. Marlo shared her ideas for improving sales and subscriptions during the next quarter. Crystal noticed that Eric Donovan was listening intently, as now Marlo was speaking his language—dollars and cents. She stole a glance at Troy and was startled to find him watching her.
He leaned in and whispered, “Have dinner with me tonight.”
She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, then looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. Everyone was giving Marlo their rapt attention as she outlined potential revenue streams. Everyone that is, except for Troy. Crystal glanced at him again. This time, he appeared visibly amused by her discomfort. He stifled a laugh as she self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear. She averted her gaze and focused on Marlo, who was speaking now about consumer research and growth opportunities that might help them surpass the magazine’s performance in the last quarter.
This time when Crystal looked at him, she held his gaze flirtatiously. Her lips stretched into a slow and sexy smile and finally she nodded. She looked away, feeling his energy from inches away. He was hungry for her and he expected to have her. She knew all about men like him. Used to having their way with everything and everyone in their path. She was simultaneously amused and aroused by him. He was, after all, sexy and wealthy. Two very tantalizing qualities in a man. But his assumption that having her would be as easy as whatever he had planned for the night made her giggle. For the rest of the meeting, she refused to look his way. Like a spoiled brat, he tried everything to get her attention. He asked her to repeat what Marlo was saying, although she knew that he could hear the woman clearly. She was grateful when Marlo heard him and spoke louder so that even the people outside the conference room could hear her. Crystal had to stifle a laugh.
He settled back into his seat, and watched her. He wondered why his father hadn’t introduced them sooner. Or had he? Crystal had mentioned something earlier about meeting him at some party. His eyes lingered on her slim, tight waist and the seductive curve of her back as she sat forward in her chair. Surely, he wouldn’t have been so blind as to let a woman like this pass him by. Not that he wasn’t juggling enough women already. But there was something about Crystal that had him intrigued. He wanted to know more about this coy fox who was running his father’s top magazine.
Once all of the key players had their say, Crystal adjourned the meeting. A buzz spread across the room as everyone engaged in their own follow-up conversations. Troy leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Meet me in my office at six o’clock.”
He gathered up his things and exited the conference room with Eric not far behind. Crystal smiled to herself, aware that she had just become a willing participant in a very mature game of cat and mouse. She doubted Troy was aware that this time he was not the cat.
* * *
It was twenty minutes past six and Crystal was running late and rushing back to the office to meet Troy. She had gone out and enjoyed a working lunch with Dana that afternoon. Afterward, she had done an interview with the NY1 television network about the election. Next she filmed a segment at BET about diversity and inclusion in media. The segment had gone on longer than expected. Now she was trotting up Sixth Avenue, aware that her new boss was being kept waiting. She was so focused on getting back upstairs as quickly as possible that she rushed past Troy standing in the lobby.
He called out her name as she hurried by.
She stopped in her tracks and faced him, immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry. I hate to keep people waiting. I was stuck over at BET and I couldn’t get away in time.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He gestured toward the elevators. “Do you need some time? Want to go upstairs?”
“No,” she assured him. “I’m ready. We can go now.” She frowned a bit, realizing that he still hadn’t disclosed his plans for the night. “Where are we going?”
He smiled. “I made reservations at Beauty and Essex. Afterwards, I want you to come with me to a party Dru’s hosting for one of our primary investors.”
They exited through the lobby’s revolving doors, and Troy led her toward a black Benz parked at the curb. A well-dressed older black man stepped out of the driver’s seat as they approached. He opened the back door and held it ajar as Troy and Crystal approached. She slid her sunglasses on and ducked her head down as they climbed inside the car.
The driver shut the door behind them and then climbed back behind the wheel. He was a very handsome, older black man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neat appearance. He peered at them through the rearview.
Troy leaned forward and smiled. “This is my driver, Butch. And this is Crystal Scott. She’s the woman I’ve been telling you about.”
Crystal whipped her head in Troy’s direction, surprised. “Telling him what?” she asked. She avoided eye contact with Butch, but was aware that he was smiling at her from the front seat.
“Troy’s been telling me how excited he is to work with you. He said you’re the reason his father’s company has been doing so well.”
She chuckled, embarrassed. “That’s not entirely true,” she said modestly. “I’m just doing my job.” From behind her shades, she eyed Troy. She wasn’t sure if she liked the idea that he was talking about her to his driver; questioning Oscar about her work habits. His invitation to have coffee, even his plans for tonight, were more than she’d expected in such a short period of time.
Butch had apparently been made aware of their destination in advance. He headed downtown and turned the music up in the car. Some smooth jazz and rhythm-and-blues station that made the trip feel mellow despite the crazy Manhattan traffic. It was obvious that Butch had been doing his job for a long time. He drove so calmly and quietly that it was easy to forget that he was there. Crystal peered at him from behind her sunglasses and noticed that he kept his attention focused on the road and not on their conversation in the backseat.
Troy was regaling her with a story about his meeting with Oscar that afternoon.
“Why do you still have your sunglasses on?” he asked. He gestured out the window at the sun setting low in the distance. “What are you hiding from?”
She shook her head and smiled. “I’m not hiding.” She slid them off and turned to face him. “Is that better?”
He smiled back at her. “You’re beautiful. Pardon me for saying so. I know that’s not professional.”
She stared back at him. “Thank you,” she said, “you’re not so bad yourself. Vanessa is a lucky woman.”
He sighed. “Don’t be so sure about that. Things ain’t always what they seem.”
Crystal wondered what he meant by that. He changed the subject before she could ask for clarity.
“My father wants me to step into his shoes and keep the same momentum he has right now. I’m not really used to doing business the way my father does it. My methods can be a little more unorthodox.”
Crystal sat back, all ears. “What do you mean?”
He grabbed a bottled water from the console in the backseat and opened it. He took a swig and twisted the cap back on before answering.
“I earned my bachelor’s in finance and my MBA at Columbia. After I graduated, I wanted to start my own company. But my father was already established in certain circles and he was just starting to expand into publishing. He wanted me to come on board right away and learn the business from the ground up.” Troy glanced out the window a bit wistfully. He shrugged. “Instead, I wound up doing some work with my uncle’s nonprofit. That’s where my energy was focused for the past few years.”
Crystal watched him, aware that he didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it. “Sounds like rewarding work,” she said archly.
He nodded and turned to face her again. “It was in some ways. But I’m glad to be shifting gears now. This is much different from what I was doing before. In a way, it’s more challenging. I’m learning about consumer research and how to stay ahead of the game. At all the meetings I’ve sat in on, I hear you talking about anticipating which stories are gonna be hot ten weeks from now. I see you making the decision on whether to launch a story online or to put it in one of the print issues. You’re out there building relationships and working as a brand ambassador for the magazine and for Stuart Mitchell as a whole. It’s impressive, Crystal.” He shook his head, his gaze sweeping over her seductively. “And you manage to look good while you’re doing it. I need to know your secret.”
She laughed as Butch pulled up in front of the restaurant. “Okay, I’ll tell you,” she said. She lowered her voice as if she were really about to tell him some ancient well-kept secret. “I love what I do.”
He smiled. “It’s that simple, huh?”
She nodded. “I love the social circles I’m invited into. Working with new writers, serving on panels, building celebrity relationships. None of that feels like work. To be honest with you, I wake up every morning and have to pinch myself to make sure it’s not all some incredible dream.”
Butch stepped out of the car and opened the door for Troy and Crystal to emerge. As she stepped out, Butch offered Crystal his hand, smiling. He tried to get a good look at her, but her face was slightly obscured by her long bangs. He did get a good look at her body and he was impressed. Ms. Crystal Scott was built like a brick house. She graciously accepted his hand and thanked him as she and Troy headed inside the restaurant.
“He’s sweet,” she said. “Has he worked for you long?”
Troy nodded. “Butch has been part of my family for a long time. He’s the best.”
They followed the waiter to their table and settled in. Crystal didn’t bother to really look at the menu. This was one of her favorite restaurants. Clearly, Troy was familiar with the tapas-style fare, as well. He ordered a couple of dishes and one of the restaurant’s signature drinks. Crystal did the same and the waiter left them alone at last.
“So, tell me what you think sets Hipster apart from the competition.” He sipped his water.
“There is no competition as far as I’m concerned. Hipster is young and vibrant. Our writers and contributors are bolder and more audacious. We employ more women of color than any of our competitors. And women’s voices are crucial in our current climate. We need to hear more of them. Our readers are successful, ambitious people who enjoy pop culture and politics with a twist. That’s what we deliver.” She shook her head. “I really can’t take all of the credit. Oscar is a big reason for the magazine’s success. He gets an idea in his head and he runs with it. He’s not afraid to go there.” She beamed with pride as she spoke of him. “Oscar and I have a chemistry that doesn’t come along every day. I trust his vision and he trusts my instincts. It just works.”
The waiter brought their drinks and was gone as quickly as he came.
“How do you balance your professional life and your private life?” He sipped his gin.
She noted that he was asking about her personal life again. He had disguised it more cleverly this time, so she gave him points for that.
“Every quarter I take a week off. I visit my family, catch up on my reading, travel.”
He nodded. “Where do you travel?” He was picturing that body in a bathing suit.
Her eyes lit up as she spoke of her trips to Europe, South Africa, and most recently to Egypt.
“I traveled alone. It was the most powerful thing I’ve ever witnessed.” She took out her cell phone and showed him pictures she had taken at historic sites during her trip. In each one, her smile shined as bright as the sun. She tucked her phone away and sipped her drink. “Those are the times when all the hard work pays off. When I can travel and see things bigger than I ever dreamed I’d see.”
He nodded. He enjoyed hearing her speak so passionately about the things that made her happy.
“The hardest part is remaining impartial,” she said. “Trying not to lean too heavily toward the left or the right. Like the Arnold Jackson story. Collectively, we’re all angry that this young man and his family have to go through this. But, as a journalist, it’s important for us not to condemn law enforcement as a whole. It’s not always easy to toe the line.”
“I think you’re doing a good job,” he said. “The magazine is doing well. And that’s no easy feat from what I’m told. According to Dru and Eric, print publishing is on life support.”
She hated hearing that. But she had to admit it wasn’t the first time. “Print isn’t dead yet. The Internet and social media have changed the game. No question. But we’ve changed right along with it, giving the brand more depth by keeping our online profile provocative and competitive. Without a social media presence in this day and age, you’re asking to be ignored.”
Their food arrived and they both dug in. Crystal filled him in about the meetings she had scheduled later that week with the entertainment director, her senior editors, and the director of operations. He marveled at how she kept it all organized in her mind. She rattled off meeting dates and times like a robot.
She took a bite of a lobster taco and looked at him. “Typically, I met with your father about once a week. He liked to go over everything with all the top people, discuss the editorial calendar, that type of thing.” She took a sip of her water. “Do you anticipate keeping that same schedule?”
Troy grinned. In a nutshell, she was wondering how often he would be around. He nodded. “Eventually, I’ll be keeping that schedule. But in these early days, I think I’ll be there much more often. Just learning the ropes. You know?”
She smirked. “Okay,” she said. “That’s cool.” She watched him as he ate. So well mannered. Her curiosity was piqued.
“Mind if I ask you a personal question?” she asked. She suspected it wouldn’t be a problem, considering that he had spent the past hour digging into her private life.
He looked up at her. “Not at all.”
She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “What was it like growing up as a Mitchell?”
Troy laughed. “You make it sound like we’re the Jacksons.”
She laughed, too. “Well, in publishing and marketing, you kind of are.” She sipped her drink. “Your father is a very powerful man.”
He nodded. “I’ve always idolized my dad,” he shared. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. I imitated him. Tried to walk like him, talk like him, and all that.”
Crystal smiled. “Was your brother the same way?”
Troy’s jaw tensed at the mention of Wes. Crystal noticed and hoped that he would reveal the reason for it. He took a long swig of his drink.
“No,” he said at last. “My brother never really got over our mother dying. She passed when I was a freshman in high school.”
“How did she die?” she asked gently.
“Breast cancer,” he said. “It happened so fast. She was diagnosed and then four months later, she was gone.” Troy sighed deeply. “Ever since then, my brother’s never been the same. My dog died three weeks after my mother. The vet called it ‘separation distress.’ I think we all had it, honestly. My father threw himself into work even more than he did before. And that’s saying a lot, since he was hardly ever home to begin with. My brother started getting in more trouble than ever. It felt like we were watching him self-destruct.” He shook his head. “Wes is six years older than me, but he might as well be ten years younger. His mind is … he’s more like my uncle, Don. I’m more like my dad.”
Crystal glanced at him questioningly. “What’s the difference?”
Troy shrugged. “My father is rational. Calm. Keeps his hands clean. Uncle Don is … I don’t know.” He seemed to catch himself saying too much. “He’s the opposite.” He looked at Crystal oddly, aware that he had already said far more than he had intended to. She was so easy to talk to that he had momentarily let down his guard.
Troy’s cell phone vibrated and he apologized as he took the call.
“What’s up, Dru?”
Crystal listened to his half of the conversation while she finished the last of the tacos.
“Okay,” Troy was saying. “I’m on my way.”
He summoned the waiter and requested the check. Crystal watched as he slipped a black card into the leather pocket and downed the rest of his drink.
“Dru’s party is rocking and he wants me to meet a couple of people. He’s at the Boom Boom Room. You heard of it?”
Crystal laughed. “Yes. Of course. Very nice!” She had attended an event at the rooftop lounge at the Standard Hotel before, and easily added it to her list of favorite New York City haunts. All the sexy people hung out at the “Boom Boom Room,” as it was known around town. The crowd was sexy, cool, and at times a little spicy. It was the scene of the infamous elevator ride the king and queen of music took after the Met Gala. Tonight Crystal was hoping for a much more peaceful outcome than that. But she was prepared for whatever.
He signed the check, left a generous tip, and confirmed via text that Butch was outside. “You ready?”
She nodded. “Let’s go.”